‘An extreme character’: Eagles mascot Swoop endures for 25 years and counting
Swoop crash-landed at the Vet on his reveal night in 1996. More in your face than on your lap, the Eagles mascot mirrors the image of Philly's football fans.
Tilting their heads skyward during halftime of an Eagles-Steelers preseason game Aug. 23, 1996, Veterans Stadium fans watched as, dangling brazenly from a tandem parachute, the home team’s new mascot emerged from an eerie veil of smoke and haze like the evil creation of some mad conjurer.
Even in that first glimpse, it was clear that Swoop was no warm and fuzzy mascot. There were none of the cuddly, clownish features that helped offset the Phillie Phanatic’s naughtiness. No crooked cap. No googly eyes. No disarming big belly.
Modeled on the fierce eagle in the team’s logo, which also debuted that summer, designers had instead stressed the bird’s predatory nature.
It was a look that figured to play well in the upper levels at the notorious Vet, where Eagles fans reveled in their tough and gritty reputation. But what about the parades, parties and store openings that soon would comprise the bulk of the mascot’s schedule? An intimidating 6-foot creature like that could give a generation of kids nightmares.
“I thought right away that Swoop was a little too aggressive-looking and probably needed to be softened,” recalled Jeff Alexander, the original Swoop. “I was doing 300 appearances a year and meeting with kids in schools and malls, and there were definitely a few times where that look was not received well. It was outstanding in the 700 level at Veterans Stadium. But at Children’s Hospital, not so much.”
Eventually, well after Alexander departed in 1998, the Eagles gave the character a makeover, a faint smile on Swoop being the most notable change.
“In 2012, the Eagles asked themselves, ‘How do we make Swoop more fresh, approachable and personable?’” said Brian Papson, the team’s marketing vice president. “We wanted him to be lovable, energetic, passionate.”
Now 25, Swoop is the second-oldest mascot on Philly’s major pro sports scene. If he hasn’t achieved the fame of the Phanatic — or even the much younger Gritty — he has, beyond all his furry peers, more accurately mirrored the image of his team’s fans. He is tough and combative, more in your face than on your lap.
“He’s definitely an extreme character,” Alexander said.
Nearing 50 now and living in Vermont, Alexander was at the heart of Swoop’s origin story. He had the initial idea. He crash-landed in costume at the Vet that first night. He imbued Swoop with the macho spirit the outfit demanded.
It began in 1995, a year after Jeffrey Lurie purchased the Eagles for $185 million. That’s when Alexander, a Norristown native and recent Drexel grad, went to work there as an intern.
One of Lurie’s first edicts was a change in the team’s color scheme and logo. And after Alexander found an outfit belonging to Huddle, a onetime Eagles mascot, the intern suggested this might also be the time to introduce a new character.
“I put that costume on, and it got me thinking,” he said. “So I put together a proposal to build a brand-new character. I remember going into Jeffrey Lurie’s office to present it to him. I felt that with the color and brand change, this would be a great time to pitch it.”
Eagles officials jumped at the idea. A contest was initiated to name the mascot. It drew 10,000 entries, the winning one from Joe Pepe, a South Philadelphia fitness buff.
Curiously, while officials in Philadelphia were unaware of the duplication, another Eagles team, Eastern Michigan University, already had a mascot named Swoop. And that character looked remarkably like his Philadelphia cousin, even wore his “00″ on its jersey.
“That’s strange, but as far as I know there’s never been any confusion or issues with this coincidence,” said Greg Steiner, Eastern Michigan’s associate athletic director for communications.
To produce the character Alexander envisioned, the Eagles hired a company that had created several NBA mascots.
“They came up with that head, a chest plate, pads, wings that snapped on, size-17 Reeboks,” Alexander said. “It wasn’t the vision I originally had, but I was the guy who pitched it and I was just a young kid going after it, so I didn’t have too much to say.”
Recognizing the character’s inherently Philly “atty-tood,” Alexander suggested a daring debut. Swoop would introduce himself to the world by parachuting into the Vet at halftime of the Steelers-Eagles exhibition game.
To prepare, Alexander practiced with the GERONIMO! Skydiving Team from Elkton, Md. The heavy, awkward costume made maneuverability difficult, so he had to jump with a partner. He made 11 practice jumps, six at night since it would be an 8 p.m game.
That August night, Philadelphia International Airport shut down its traffic as the plane carrying Swoop and two other skydivers circled 10,000 feet above the Vet.
There was much to worry about. It was hazy, and Swoop and his partner were going to have to follow a smoke trail left by the earlier jumpers. And, since the Phillies were still playing, there were concerns that jumpers could get snagged on the guide wires attached to the Vet’s foul poles
“We had radio contact with the stadium and we only had an 8- or 12-minute window at halftime,” Alexander said. “But we were ready to go.”
That time frame seemed in jeopardy when, with all the skydivers lined up inside the plane, the first jumper’s chute prematurely opened.
“We were like, holy …. this is crazy,” Alexander said. “But we pushed him aside and the second guy jumped. Now when we jumped, we only had one guy to follow.”
With the theme from “Superman” blaring over the stadium’s loudspeakers and all eyes on them, they all found the big concrete bowl. But Alexander’s chute was slightly off course and the tandem’s specific target, the 50-yard line, was out of reach. Instead, Swoop and his partner careened into the crowded Eagles sideline, where Alexander recalled they took out a Gatorade table and at least two cheerleaders.
Swoop quickly picked himself up, unharnessed, knelt to kiss the Vet’s turf, then headed out to midfield for a planned dance with the surviving cheerleaders.
“I did the dance, staggered into a tunnel and collapsed,” said Alexander. “It was a great unveiling.”
The adrenaline rush emboldened Alexander. In the future he would train with the Philadelphia Police Mounted Unit in order to gallop into the stadium on horseback before a Dallas Cowboys game. When the team hosted Pittsburgh and its star running back Jerome “The Bus” Bettis, he entered by crashing through a cardboard bus. He kicked field goals at halftime. And once, when Swoop ran to greet Ty Detmer after a touchdown, the ecstatic Eagles QB inadvertently unmasked and nearly decapitated him.
For a nationally televised game in 1998, Swoop planned to zip-line in from the Vet’s lofty penthouse suites to the field. But during a Friday practice run, the harness came undone and he fell 30 feet into folding chairs in the 100 level.
“The question was would I be able to do it on Sunday?” Alexander said. “I said, ‘I’ve got to do it even though I’m hurting. It’s Swoop.’ We did and it went off perfectly. But all these years later, my back still hurts.”
The ambitious Alexander sought out corporate partnerships for the mascot. Deptford Honda provided a four-wheeler. He made a shoe deal with Reebok.
And after departing in 1998, Alexander started his own marketing company, manning characters at events for the Philadelphia Zoo, Penn Maid Dairy, and Wawa.
“Instead of those companies putting a random intern into the costumes,” he said, “I had a crew of guys who were trained.”
He left that for a job at a Vermont ski resort and now works with Vermont Adaptive Ski & Sports, a charity that, in his words, “makes sure everybody has the opportunity to play, no matter your ability or disability.”
In the meantime, the character he created endures, though in a slightly more genial iteration.
“Swoop has gone on the road to Los Angeles, to London, to Super Bowls,” Papson said. “He represents the Eagles in the community. He’s year-round. He’s available when players and coaches aren’t. He speaks all languages through body language and engagement. He’s just a great brand ambassador.”
Even if some kids might still be reluctant to give him a hug.